Magic and Memory Prologue: Vale of Exiles
by Mercedes
Summary: After crashing his guymelef, Dilandau finds himself in a strange forest with even stranger inhabitants who seem to possess unusual powers. From here the greater story begins


Vale of Exiles  
By Mercedes  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is just the prologue to a much larger project. It does have spoilers and I must warn you now that it doesn't follow the show's time line at all. It's more like an alternate reality time line that I made up myself and includes many of my own characters. It is out there…and I mean *insanely* out there and there is a possibility that it could get sappy somewhere down the line when I get into the main part of the story. Please, if you don't want the show to be spoiled for you then please don't read it.  
  
FEEDBACK: Of course I want Feedback. I want to know what you think and what I might do to improve. However, I do not wish to receive any flames, so if that's all you have to say then please don't because they serve no purpose but to make me feel crappy after reading it. If you would like to get in touch with me my email is dragonlight_13@hotmail.com.  
  
  
The woods were calm and still and quiet, that is, until a loud crash amid the trees shattered the peaceful silence. A red Zaibach guymelef lay smoking amid the ruins of several trees and bushes. The thick, impenetrable silence then quickly returned as though it had engulfed any and all sound. After several long minutes, there was a hiss of steam and the control chamber of the guymelef opened so that the soldier controlling it could climb out. Lord Dilandau Albatou stood slowly, a wave of nausea washing over him as a searing pain shot through his head. He ignored it and stared up at the destroyed melef and then spat out an angry curse. How was he supposed to get back to the Zaibach now? He glanced around, realizing that he didn't recognise his surroundings either. He cursed again even louder, not sure what he was supposed to do next. Finally he chose a direction at random and began to make his way through the thick underbrush. As he walked, he kept getting the strange feeling of being watched, but he could see nothing, no birds, no creatures of any kind. The woods were as silent as death stalking, as though the wood creatures had fled at first sign of him as he wandered through the woods…maybe they had. A sudden wave of dizziness and nausea suddenly gripped him and he paused to lean against a tree to keep himself from passing out. When the pain had ebbed and his sight had cleared, he looked up to find that he was no longer alone. A young woman, about his age, stood facing him, a good distance away and out of reach of his sword, a silver headed arrow nocked in what appeared to be a hunting bow…though maybe slightly longer. She did not have the string pulled fully taut, but it was close enough. She was slender and graceful, and though not very tall, she appeared quite fit and well toned. She was dressed in a short skirted, dark green, sleeveless dress that seemed to have the patterns of leave somehow woven into it. One of the pairs of the dress' straps rested on her graceful shoulders while a second pair hung elegantly down off her shoulders. She wore boots on her feet that came up just past the middle of her calves and at her throat, hanging from a silver chain, was a perfectly carven, tapered crystal, which reminded Dilandau of something similar he'd seen somewhere before. On a longer silver chain about the woman's neck was a silvery-blue, tear-shaped gem. In contrast to her dark dress, the young woman's hair was pale silver-white, even lighter than Dilandau's own. She had it tied back loosely, a green cord twined around it. He finally met her eyes…two pale silvery-green orbs that showed no fear of him, only strength and courage. Those orbs were cold like ice and nearly as hard, but not in the same way as Dilandau's. Hers still betrayed some deep inner pain or struggle that she kept buried deep within. The hardness came from living with that day after day, and probably having to make do everyday with what she had. She finally spoke, surprisingly enough in his own language, her voice silvery and clear.  
"What business do you have in these woods, human? You have no right to tread on this land uninvited…" Dilandau chuckled a little…a cold, humourless, merciless sound.  
"Trespassing am I? And what are you going to do about it…shoot me?" The woman pulled the bowstring fully taut and trained it on his heart.  
"If that is how it must be…I'll do what I must to protect my clans from intruders." Dilandau laughed all the more.  
"You won't shoot me," he said, trying not to choke, "you don't have the guts…" A faint smile played across the woman's lips.  
"Are you willing to bet your life on that?" she asked, the hand holding the string twitching ever so slightly, almost as though she was just itching to kill him there and then…  
"Hah, you're just some dumb girl who thinks she's tougher than she is," he replied, taking a step forward and putting a hand on his sword hilt. That was when it happened, the bowstring sang and the arrow whizzed past Dilandau's head so close that he could feel the breeze it created. Then it stuck into the tree, buried almost all the way up to its fletches. Dilandau froze.  
"Now, that was a warning. Next time my arrow will find either your throat, or your heart…if you don't leave…now." Dilandau felt his anger heat up.  
"And where do you expect me to go?" he demanded. The woman shrugged.  
"I know not, nor do I care, so long as it's back the way you came."  
"I can't go back the way I came…I don't even know where the hell I am. My guymelef is in ruins. How am I supposed to get anywhere?" The woman looked about to reply when a third voice, that of a child, called out and then a small girl appeared, running through the brush toward them. The woman was quick and lifted her arm to block the child from running into Dilandau's reach. The woman looked down at the little girl.  
"What are you doing here, Serene?" she demanded, "I thought I told you to stay with Sylvan."  
"I'm sorry," apologized the girl, looking up at the woman with sapphire eyes that sparkled with so much life, "but you took so long I thought something happened to you and I wanted to make sure you were all right." The woman sighed and gently stroked the girl's silky golden hair.  
"It's all right, love," she said, "I'm just dealing with an intruder." The child then turned those gentle eyes on Dilandau. A strange feeling washed over the Zaibach captain, one that he couldn't hope to explain. It was almost as though he knew this child, or at least had known someone like her once upon a time. And even more unusual look drifted across Serene's face, one that couldn't be read, almost as though she saw something in the warrior that not even he knew was there. He was about to speak when another wave of dizziness and nausea washed over him and then everything went black.  
  
*******  
  
Serene's eyes went wide at seeing the soldier black out right there before her.  
"What are we going to do, Sylvie?" she asked as the woman lowered her arm, her eyes never leaving the young man. She didn't answer. "Sylvie, we have to help him!" cried Serene pulling on the older girl's arm.  
"Pipe down," the pale haired woman hissed, "we can't risk taking him back to the vale…and we have no way to get him there as it is."  
"Yes we do, Sylvie. Icemoon is with Sylvan. I can get them both." Serene watched as her Sylvie's pale eyes softened a little, "he's hurt…we can't just leave him," insisted the child, feeling slightly heartened. Finally the woman nodded.  
"All right," she said, "go bring Sylvan. I'll discuss this with him."  
  
"Sylvana!" Sylvan appeared from out of the bushes with Serene at his heals, "Serene said something about a man being hurt…" The pale haired woman nodded and indicated the Zaibach with an inclination of her head.  
"I don't feel comfortable taking him back to the vale, Sylvan, but he's hurt." Sylvan regarded the young warrior with calm emerald eyes.  
"I agree with Serene. I know you feel it necessary to protect our people, but we aren't meant to be isolated no matter what the elders taught us back home." Sylvana seemed to consider this.  
"True and twice true," she agreed and then nodded, "All right, but…if anything happens -"  
"I promise, I'll take full responsibility for him, dear sister," Sylvan replied. Sylvana nodded.  
"Very well then…"  
  
*******  
  
Dilandau fought through the empty darkness that was unconsciousness and finally opened his eyes. Where was he? He tried to sit up, but stopped when a wave of dizziness gripped him. The room was dim and cool. A fire burned in a hearth and several candles were lit, a sweet scent he couldn't quite put his finger on hung faintly on the air, He could hear soft voices and slowly he turned his head. The door was open and he could see, standing there, two people speaking in a strange language he didn't recognise. One of them was the silver haired girl from the woods; the other was a young man. His longish hair was pale white-blond. He was taller that the young woman and he was muscular while at the same time having a certain amount of slender grace about him. His kind eyes, which were trained on the young woman, were bottomless sea-green and he spoke in a calm, warm voice that, despite the strange language in which he spoke, was undoubtedly a tone he used to ease the other's concerns. The young woman seemed to be protesting about something. She shook her head, her long hair rippling slightly so that it looked iridescent in the dim light. Finally, the other said something that made her sigh and close her eyes, but she nodded. The young man kissed her on the forehead and then turned to go. The young woman ran a hand down his arm as he did. What was the relationship between these two? Were they close friends? Relatives? Or something else? Dilandau watched the young woman as she stood a moment there in the doorway, probably watching the other go. There she stood for several moments, unmoving, like a statue, framed in the light. At last, she tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling. Dilandau thought he could see the sparkle of tears in her eyes, but finally decided that it was a trick of the light. She then turned and entered the room. She now wore a long-skirted dress of deep indigo, but still, it was sleeveless. Dilandau watched her warily through slitted eyes. She crossed the room, momentarily placing a graceful hand on the foot of the bed so that he could see her silver pearlescent nails which were tipped with white; for some reason, Dilandau had to wonder if she used enamel to paint them as some noble ladies did or if that was their natural colour. The young woman opened the shutters on the window at the far side of the room so that a few silver beams of moonlight spilled in. She placed another log on the fire and then gestured almost absently and an orb of pale silver 'witch light' suddenly appeared hovering next to her head. She approached Dilandau's bed and gazed down at him silently for a few moments as he pretended to sleep.  
"Don't bother trying to pretend," she said finally, "I know you're awake."  
"What? How?" Dilandau slowly opened his garnet eyes again, even the soft light from the fire and candles hurting them and making the pain in his head seem that much worse.  
"How are you feeling?" the woman asked coolly.  
"I crashed my guymelef. How do you think I feel?" snapped Dilandau  
"Hmm…that's not surprising. Seems you took a pretty nasty blow to the head. It pretty damn near cracked your skull. So, I suppose you're lucky on two counts…"  
"Two counts?"  
"The first being that your concussion is not as bad as it quite possibly could have been and the second being that I'm quite a skilled healer…among other things." She silently sat and gazed at Dilandau for a couple of moments. "Actually," she finally said, "you could almost consider it three counts. Serene thought it necessary we help you no matter the consequences and my brother, Sylvan, agreed. I'm not sure if you'd be here if the decision had been left solely up to me…Let me be blunt…I don't trust you. It's as simple as that."  
'Yes well, you shouldn't trust me, girl,' Dilandau thought. The young woman cocked her head slightly looking thoughtful.  
"I should let you rest." She finally said, "and you *should* get some rest." Dilandau looked like he was almost ready to start protesting, but the healer was quick to pick up on it. "I don't want to be argued with. I'm your healer, so unless you wish not to get well, I suggest you do as I say." She then levered herself up off the chair and silently turned toward the door, her indigo skirt swirling about her legs. Dilandau watched the young woman as she left the room and pulled the door shut behind her.  
  
*******  
  
Sylvana sat in her room brooding. It seemed like she'd been doing a lot of that lately. Sylvan was concerned; Shadow was concerned; so was Myrage. A light tap at the door shook Sylvana out of her reverie. She sighed and pushed herself to her feet. She answered the door and found Shadow standing there.  
"We need to talk," Shadow stated bluntly. Sylvana stood there a moment and finally moved aside and gestured for her half-sister to enter. Shadow did so and flopped down in the chair Sylvana had previously been sitting in. Shadow regarded her sister fore several moments with her amethyst eyes. Finally, it was Sylvana, not Shadow, who broke the silence.  
"You said you came to talk…" she said, "so are we going to talk or sit here all night having a staring contest?" Shadow arched an ebony eyebrow and let a small smile play across her lips.  
"Yes, I came to talk. Sylvana, you've been brooding more and more as each week passes…it's not healthy. We're all concerned about you, me, Serene, Sylvan, Myrage, the rest of our clans…all of us. How are you going to lead us like you're meant to if you cannot see past your own tragic, yet past mistakes?" A dark shadow seemed to pass over Sylvana's face and she frowned, her silvery eyes shifting to inside her mind. She saw the past reply again…the young man collapsing…the healers finally pronouncing him dead after only two days. Sylvana closed her eyes as a pair of tears slid down her face.  
"You don't understand, "she said in a near whisper.  
"It was an accident."  
"But it was still my fault! I lost control, I killed Azure…It was my fault!"  
"It was an accident. You didn't mean for it to happen!" yelled Shadow.  
"But it did anyway, didn't it?!" Sylvana returned, "saying that is wasn't meant to happen and that I'm sorry doesn't make it better, it doesn't change the fact that I killed someone…It doesn't bring back the dead! It doesn't ever make it go away. It's a stain that can't be bleached out. It's there, it happened and nothing can change that!" Sylvana spread her hands helplessly and spoke in a soft voice, "That's why I'm here and not back hope with our people, isn't it?" She shook her head, tears beginning to spill down her cheeks, "You can't save me from myself, Shadow, just forget about it, you can't save me." Shadow nodded.  
"You're right…that isn't up to me." she replied and slipped out the door.  
  
*******  
  
Dilandau was woken from a restless sleep by the yelling of two women in the room next to his own. He sat up, ignoring the dizziness that gripped him, and slid out of the bed. He slipped out the door and found that the door to the room next to his own was standing open. He watched as the two women, one with iridescent silvery-white tresses and one with ebony black tresses, yelled at each other. He wasn't sure what it was about, but he was intrigued just the same. After only a couple of moments, the anger of the two cooled off and now the pale haired young woman, who Dilandau had quickly recognised as the healer, looked at the other helplessly and said something in a near whisper. The other nodded, made her reply and then left the room, not even noticing Dilandau since she turned her back to him and headed away from him. Now Dilandau's curiosity was piqued. He didn't usually care about such things, especially when it was women's business, but they had to be arguing about something big to get them that heated up. He watched as the young healer paced in front of her fireplace, almost like a caged animal. Finally she seized the closest thing at hand and, with a heart-rending wail, flung it at the open door. The silver framed looking glass hit the wall with a crunch of shattering glass and then fell to the floor. Dilandau stared at the mirror in surprise, the girl stared at him in surprise.  
"What in the hells -" she spat out, "how long have you been standing there?" Dilandau didn't answer; rather her straightened up and crossed his arms gazing at her arrogantly. The girl stood a moment and then pressed a hand to her face and shook her head.  
"Fine," she said, "fine…I-I don't care…just…I don't know…" her voice trailed off as she turned her back on him. Not a wise move had he had the means to kill her, but then again, maybe that was what she wanted…to die so that her misery would end. Dilandau bent down and picked up the ruined remains of the looking glass. For a moment, when he looked into it, he thought he saw the refection of someone else…a young woman about his age, with long golden tresses and kind, gentle blue eyes. He closed his eyes and shook his head to clear it. Maybe he'd suffered more damage when he hit his head that he'd first supposed. When he opened his eyes again, the mirror reflected his own silver hair, his own icy garnet eyes. He turned the mirror over and saw an inscription. It was simply a name. Sylvana…He considered the writing a while, guessing that it was the other's name.  
"What do you want?" Sylvana finally demanded, turning back to Dilandau.  
"You damned argument woke me up," he snapped. Sylvana regarded him a moment, her eyes still bright with unshed tears. She looked as though she might snap something back at him, but then she seemed to deflate and shrugged.  
"That's just one of many that will occur while you're here, I'm sure" she finally replied. Dilandau looked annoyed.  
"You tell me to rest, but you keep me awake while you scream at each other…what kind of healer are you?"  
"I -" Sylvana stopped short when she saw Dilandau's eyes glaze over as he started to sink to the floor. Sylvana hurried to his side and helped him to his feet and over to her chair. "See," she said in a firm, but strangely enough, compassionate voice, "this is exactly why I told you to stay in bed and rest." She pressed and cool hand to his forehead. "Gods, you're burning up," she said in a hoarse voice. Dilandau looked to be on the verge of passing out again. Sylvan was in bed. She glanced about and finally made the only decision she could. She helped Dilandau to her own bed and then pulled a chair over next to it and collapsed into it in exhaustion.  
  
*******  
  
The blinding brightness of the sun's rays shining directly into Dilandau's face was what woke him. For a moment, when he opened his eyes, he felt a bit disoriented, but the previous day's events were quick to come flooding back, especially when he noted that his head was still pounding. He then realized that he wasn't in the room he'd woken up in the previous night and then he turned his head and saw Sylvana curled up in her armchair next to his bed. She was fast asleep, but her face didn't look peaceful like it was for most people when they slept. In stead, her face showed pain and emptiness. He almost felt sympathetic…almost, but not quite. He laid there a while, simply watching her sleep and puzzling over just who she was. She seemed different from most people somehow, but he couldn't figure out what it was about her that made her so different.  
  
A loud banging at her door was what woke Sylvana. She started awake with a sharp in take of breath and nearly fell out of the chair she'd spent the night in. Her silver-green eyes alighted momentarily on Dilandau, and she saw that he too was awake. She was about to say something, but the pounding was repeated, this time more insistent and Sylvana pushed herself to her feet and padded her way across the floor on bare feet, muttering inaudibly to herself. She pulled open the door and there was Sylvan.  
"Sylvan, what -"  
"Shadow told me about last night." Sylvan said, pushing his way past his sister and entering the room. Sylvana tilted back her head and let a bitter laugh escape her throat.  
"Of course…why else would you be here so early in the morning? You've come to preach to me…just like everyone else. How typical." Sylvan closed his emerald eyes feeling frustration creeping up on him.  
"Sylvana -"  
"Look, I don't need to be lectured. I can take care of myself." The two were, without even realizing it, speaking in a language that Dilandau could understand, unlike the previous night when Sylvana, and he guessed that the other had been Shadow, were arguing.  
"Sylvana…you . are . killing . yourself." Sylvan said, putting individual emphasis on each word.  
"Sylvan, you don't understand…I . don't . care," Sylvana hissed back in the same manner, "You and Shadow and Myrage…and all the others chose to come with me, I didn't invite you along, so if you don't like it here then leave…go home!" Sylvan shook his silver head almost helplessly, "Go home, Sylvan, go home," Sylvana insisted.  
"Not without you. We, all of us, will not leave without you. Why can't you just leave the past where it belongs…in the past. Stop torturing yourself. You can't bring him back. All your brooding, all your tears…none of it will change anything. Get over it; move on. What's past is past. Worry about what's before you…what's that proverb Adriel loves so much?"  
"When you watch where you've been rather than where you're going, it's that much more likely you'll fall over a cliff," quoted Sylvana.  
"That's the one. It's good advise…I really ought to take the time to appreciate just how wise he is some day."  
"But not today?" Sylvana asked. She already knew all to well that her dear twin brother was not at all fond of her lover.  
"No…not today I don't think."  
"I thought not." Sylvana let a rare, amused smile touch her lips; it even reached her eyes. "Well, you certainly covered all the clichés didn't you. No more lectures Sylvan, or I'll get Adriel to carry all my messages to you for me…I know just how much you love him." A look of mock horror played across Sylvan's face.  
"No, anything but that!" he then grew serious again, "Listen, I promise, if you stop with the constant brooding, I'll stop with the weekly lectures…" Sylvana crossed her arms.  
"Do you know just how much I'm longing to exile you from this vale just so that you'll leave me alone?" she asked.  
"Hmm, exiled from Exiles' Vale, that certainly would be ironic." Sylvan said.  
"Yes, it isn't lost on me either…but in all seriousness, you may be my brother, but I'll do what I must if it means I'll have that much more peace." Sylvan frowned.  
"Somehow I don't think that'll bring you peace. Sylvana," he replied and then headed out of the room.  
"Gods," Sylvana said aloud to herself, "this is getting bloody ridiculous. When did everyone forget how to mind their own business?"  
  
'Hmm, now that was interesting…seems there's something more going on with Sylvana than I would have thought possible.' Dilandau watched Sylvana, who was standing there in the centre of the room, her arms crossed; she then tilted her head back as her silvery eyes closed and she lifter her hands to cover her face. So, he was in a place they called Exiles' Vale, which obviously meant that all the people he'd seen here were exiles. However, it seemed that Sylvana was the only one who had no choice in the matter. She was the one who'd been exiled and the others had merely followed her for some reason.  
'What kind of people would follow an exile into banishment?' Dilandau was quick to answer his own question, 'Sentimental fools, that's what kind.'  
  
Sylvana ignored the presence of Dilandau. She probably should have sent him back to his own apartment, but she wasn't in the mood to even look at him, let alone deal with him and get into an inevitable argument with him. She was increasingly regretting allowing Serene to influence her the way she did. The small child had a good, pure heart, and it was large enough to hold all people within it. It was her greatest strength and her greatest weakness. Of course, little Serene also had an uncanny ability to pull a person into something that was almost similar to a 'guilt circle' and then use that to get them to do what she felt in her heart was right.  
'Manipulative brat…I wonder if she's empathic,' Sylvana though as she walked to her bookshelf and pulled down one of the ancient tomes, one of many that she'd been working to translate for lifetimes it seemed -- maybe it had been lifetimes. She had tomes and scrolls and ancient tablets by the thousands…or so it seemed at times. All of them were from early times; her guide had given many of them to her; many of them were chronicles of her people, and many of them were written in several languages from runes, to glyphs to script. It was a lot of work trying to translate them all. Her sisters helped her when they could since they too had a relatively strong give of languages, but unfortunately, Sylvana's was the strongest of the three of them and quite often Shadow and Myrage were of little help. Sylvana had kept several of the tomes just for her, however. They were the grimoires of magicians long dead, and she, being an enchantress herself in point of fact, at least in potential, wished to study the grimoires in greater detail. She longed to master her deep inner power; her guide meant for her to as well, but she knew that this time, this life, she couldn't follow the short cut. Fear, blood, torture and death created great energy that could be fed off of or used to strengthen magical gifts. Magicians had done it before, to grow into unspeakably powerful sorcerers, but it was dangerous. Dark magic was not to be tampered with, she knew this now and understood it, so all that was left was to study and learn all that her mind could hold. Hopefully, her guide would aid her at times, but she first had to do all that she thought possible before asking for that aid. Ah well, she'd always been taught that nothing was free. She might as well follow that sorry excuse for a lousy philosophy and avoid any and all shortcuts unless offered to her by her guide.  
  
*******  
  
Myrage poked her head in the door of Sylvana's apartment. Sylvana was curled up in her chair and was deeply immersed in a book, it seemed. Myrage smiled to herself and silently made her way across the wood floor. She was planning to frighten the wits out of her sister, but just as she raised her arm…  
"Try it, and you'll lose a hand," came the flat voice from the chair.  
'Damn, how does she do that?' Myrage dropped her hand huffily  
"You do enjoy spoiling my fun, don't you, sister?" she asked.  
"Only when you're trying to scare me out of my wits."  
"Humph, you know what your problem is. You've lost your sense of humour…or maybe you just misplaced it. Either way, without it you're no fun at all."  
"Yes, well even with my sense of humour intact, I never did enjoy being the butt of all your preadolescent mischief."  
"Preadolescent…a - when did you become the epitome of maturity?"  
"When I realized that Falcon, Hawk and Kestrel were in danger of being wiped out by your capering."  
"I don't understand you."  
"I'm not asking you to." Myrage sighed and dropped down onto the arm of her sister's chair. She let her piercing golden eyes fall on the sleeping figure of Dilandau.  
"Do you have any idea who he is?" Myrage asked  
"None…It's strange though…"  
"What is?"  
"Well, when I was performing a healing to undo any possible permanent damage caused by his crash, I discovered that his soul is…well…it's almost as though it's been stretched and twisted out of shape. It's almost as though someone deliberately tried to change who he is…"  
"Did they succeed?"  
"I'm not sure…maybe. You see, that's another odd thing. He's obviously a soldier, or warrior of some sort. He's probably killed many people…but…"  
"But?"  
"But his soul is clean, and his aura has no trace of the blood red hue that belongs to a natural born killer…I don't understand how that can be…"  
"It can't be…all good soldiers have the aura of a born killer. A soldier can only be a soldier if he has such an aura. It's stained by the bloodshed of past lives. It's impossible for him to be a soldier if he doesn't have an aura of a natural killer.  
"I know. I don't understand…I was looking through my books, but I can't find anything even remotely similar." Myrage and Sylvana exchanged glances, golden eyes met silver. They couldn't explain what Sylvana had felt, and neither, it seemed, could the countless mages, sorcerers and enchanters of the ages long since past.  
  
*******  
  
Dilandau's recovery seemed to him to be taking far too long. If Sylvana was the great healer she had claimed to be, then why had she not simply healed him straight off? He was sure she would be glad to see him leave, and he himself would be happy to go, but it had been at least a week and a half. For all he knew, Zaibach had given up on him. It wasn't known to waste a huge amount of time in seeking out its lost soldiers.   
This morning, Dilandau had woken alone. Sylvana had disappeared before he had woken and knew he was by himself. He lay there a while, wondering when and if she'd return, while growing all the more restless. Despite the fact that he was probably Zaibach's best warrior, there was one thing that he could not stand, and that was being all alone. He didn't know why that was, but he suspected that it was because of something that might have happened during the first five years of his life, which, for the life of him, he could not recall. He'd never been able to, and most of the time he'd simply accepted it. Maybe he'd lost his memory in an accident, but one thing was for sure, there were a lot of things that could probably be explained by the memories of those lost years, such as what had happened to his parents and how he came to be 'adopted' by the Zaibach Empire. Oh well, what was past was past, there wasn't anything he could do, so he might as well push it out of his mind and worry about more pressing matters, such as how he was supposed to get back to the Zaibach without his guymelef and no knowledge of where he was whatsoever. Finally, with a suppressed growl, he climbed out of the bed, ignoring the momentary wave of dizziness that gripped him. He then pulled on his boots and jacket, both of which were slung over the end of the bed, over his pants and undershirt and then headed for the door, taking only a moment to survey the apartment. The front room had several shelves literally piled with books and scrolls and tablets in every shape, size and form. It was actually a rather impressive collection, that is, if you enjoyed sitting alone reading all the time. He then headed out the door and then halted in the corridor. Exactly which way was he supposed to go anyway? He simply stood there for several long minutes. He had no idea how big this place was and he wasn't exactly keen on getting lost in a labyrinth of corridors…  
"Looking for the way out?" Dilandau started and whipped around to face a young woman, probably a year or so older that he himself was. She had large, slightly slanted, violet eyes and long, rich brown, nearly black, tresses, most of which she wore loose with the exception of a few that she had braided and plaited. She was about as tall as him, give or take a couple of inches, and she was gazing at him with such intensity that it almost made him flinch. She tilted her head as she waited for his reply, never once removing those depthless, almost cat-like eyes from him…and indeed they were cat-like, or perhaps draconic, right down to the pupils that were slit vertically. What the hell what she?  
"You know…where I come from, it's customary to answer someone's question," she finally stated in her warm, summery voice, a hint of humour showing in her slanted, violet eyes. That finally snapped Dilandau out of his haze.  
"The way out…which way do I go?" he demanded  
"I'll show you. Oh, and by the way, my name is Caressa…Caressa Dark fall H'auq, daughter of the Hawk Clan…"  
  
Caressa lead Dilandau straight down the corridor, only turning a corner once and there were the wide front doors.  
"So, planning on leaving us so very soon?" Caressa asked. Dilandau didn't reply; he just walked out the door and down the steps and into what appeared to be a huge and vast forest that the building built within.  
'Damn, leaving is going to be more difficult that I thought.' There was a path that stretched forward and through the trees in several directions. He considered each one and then finally took the one that was straight ahead.  
After only walking for several minutes, the trees began to thin and he through he heard music snaking its way dreamily through the trees. He headed toward it, whoever it was probably had some knowledge of where Sylvana was and he planned on demanded just how she thought to get him back to the Zaibach Empire. It didn't take him long to break into the clearing, and upon looking at it he had to admit to himself that of all the things he'd seen in his fifteen years of life…ten if he discounted the five he couldn't remember…he'd never seen anything like it. It was almost perfectly round and in the centre the path of pure white stones encircled a round pool. In the centre of the pool was a white tree on which grew silver leaves. Up through the centre of the tree…or was it four trees grown together…spouted a small fountain of water. Its spray cascaded down over the tree's branches and then streamed down them to drip back into the pool. The plume of water also supported a faintly glowing silver globe. After a few moments it also registered that the pool was in fact the centre of a compass rose. The compass' radials were set alternately in gold and silver stones. The four gold rays were slightly longer and pointed in the direction of the four cardinal points exactly. Also, from the circle radiated several more paths, set in the same white stone, that went in the eight different directions the compass pointed out. This was the very centre of the vale, it had to be. Over the splashing of the fountain, Dilandau could hear something else…music coming from the far side of the pool. Well, someone was there and he could interrogate them in order to find out where Sylvana, who was being frustratingly illusive, was. The music, which the Zaibach soldier could now tell we being made by at least two different instruments, grew louder as he drew closer. The melody was nothing he recognised, but the style and instruments he was sure he'd heard somewhere before. He rounded a group of shrubs and found two figures, one playing what appeared to be some sort of wood-wind instruments, very similar to a flute, but made of some sort of iridescent crystal. The other was playing a stringed instrument with a bow. The one with the flute had silver tresses that cascaded down her back like water, her eyes closed, one graceful leg showing through a slit in her deep red dress…Sylvana. He didn't remember meeting the other, though. She had pale blond hair that was somewhat longer than Sylvana's, but there was a close resemblance between the two. The other wore a pale green dress; her hair tied back in a loose braid interlaced with a cord the same colour as her dress. Dilandau was about to interrupt them, but something made him stop and look up. There, sitting in one of the near by trees was some sort of bird. It was almost every colour imaginable, and seemed to change colour the same way a flame does. Sparks seemed to rain down from its wings and long tail, and it eyed him with a wary obsidian, golden pupil eye. For some inexplicable reason, the bird caused Dilandau to hesitate as it fixed him with that almost eerie eye. He suddenly thought better of disturbing the two young women and instead listened to them play. The music seemed to shake loose a partial memory, though one he wasn't exactly sure was his…He knew there was something strange about this place, Exiles' Vale…maybe he was picking up on someone else's memories…  
  
***  
  
A small girl with long golden locks and crystal blue eyes stood with her mother at a festival. The capital had festivals twice every year, one during the first week of spring and another during the first week of autumn…weather permitting of course. They usually lasted no more than a week, but people came from everywhere to see it, because there were people that came from lands far away to sell their goods and to perform. The goods these people sold were like nothing from anywhere else, exotic fruits, fine clothe, the best weapons any person cold forge…damned expensive, but the finest none the less. Some of the clans sold goods, while others performed. Some played the sweetest music ever heard, some dance with such grace they almost seemed to float or fly, some were the finest archers ever known to Gaea, some the best swordsmen (and swordswomen) imaginable. The talents of the different clans were vastly spread out among them. Fine music to amazing archery. Grace of feet during the dance to swiftness of hand and foot with a sword, both men and women alike, even weaving to make the grandmothers envious and artwork for which people would pay unbelievable amounts just to possess. When bards wished to purchase a musical instrument, nine times out of ten they waited until the festivals. They were undoubtedly the best place to purchase the prize instruments.  
The little girl stood watching all that was going on, but especially the flautist that was now playing for a large crowd of people, herself and her mother included. Next to her stood another little girl, alone it seemed and about her own age. She had her silver locks tied back in a tail with a ribbon and she wore dark green, a springly colour.  
"Who are you?" asked the blond child innocently. The other turned pale, slit-pupil eyes on the first and smiled.  
"I'm called Sylvie…Sylvie Fauquon…daughter of the falcon," the little silver haired girl replied, "who are you?"  
"My name is Celina Shazar," replied the first child, "do you know her?" Celina asked indicating the woman flautist. Sylvie nodded.  
"She's my mother," she replied.  
"Really?" asked Celina sounding impressed. Sylvie nodded.   
The two then began to talk together as Sylvie's mother continued to play. Finally the day began to wane. Celina's brother appeared as their mother was preparing to leave. Celina didn't want to leave her new friend, but her mother told her that they had better. Sylvie's mother had long since finished playing anyway, and now she was coming over to claim her own child, another child, a young boy, also with silver hair and large emerald eyes, at her side.  
"Sylvie," she said in a clear musical voice tinged with a lilting accent, "It's time to go." Sylvie nodded and then looked to Celina a moment, almost seeming to be contemplating her. Finally, she pulled a feather out of her hair. The feather seemed to be made of fire as it flickered and changed colour and seemed to rain sparks. Celina wondered how Sylvie could touch it without burning her fingers. Sylvie then held it out to Celina.  
"This used to belong to my friend Anya. I want to give it to you so that you won't forget me, even if we never meet again." Celina gazed at the feather in wonder, her blue eyes glowing. She gingerly took the feather in her hand, half afraid that she might burn her fingers, and then gazed at it wordlessly. No good-byes were needed. The two girls went their separate ways, back to their own separate lives…perhaps one day to meet again…  
  
***  
  
'What the hell was that?' Dilandau felt a little disoriented. The music had stopped and now the two young women were gazing at him.  
"Well well," said the blond, "he's up…I was afraid you were going to hibernate forever." She let a mischievous smile play across her lips, her eyes, as eerie as the birds, sparkling with unmistakable mischief.  
"Seems he's finally well, Myrage," agreed Sylvana, "which means he'll be leaving us soon." Myrage tisk tisked.  
"Too bad…I had such a find idea for a prank too." She let out a musical chuckle, "ah well, you'll still be here." Sylvana jabbed the other in the ribs with her flute and then stood up.  
"I'm assuming that you'll want to leave as soon as possible?" she said in a quizzical voice, "meet me in the woods two days from now. Come here and then take that path…" She pointed to the one that headed off toward the south and east with a white tipped silver nail, "by then I should have negotiated something with one of my…friends. Myr, I'll see you later." Without even give Dilandau a chance to reply, Sylvana turned away and headed back toward the main house. Myrage turned her golden eyes on the Zaibach and let a wicked smile touch her lips.  
"You'd better be careful, sweeting," she said, "my sister does *not* like you. Here's a word of advice, Sylvana is somewhat…temperamental. She has the nature of a wolf, and if you're not careful…one wrong move, one wrong word, she'll tear your throat out before you even realize what's happening. My advice…stay on her good side." Dilandau smirked.  
"I'm not concerned," he replied, ever ounce of his arrogance showing, "I'm an expert swordsman, and she may have a temper, but she's still a woman and no match for me." He then turned away and headed in the direction Sylvana had gone -- back toward the main house.  
"Don't be so sure about that, boy," Myrage muttered under her breath.  
  
*******  
  
Adriel found Sylvana in her study. He'd been hunting all over for her since dinner. She hadn't shown up in the dining hall where all those who dwelled in Fauquon house shared the meals. Each of the main houses, Fauquon, H'auq and Kes'eral had dining halls where the meals were served. Almost all things were shared, from meals to most duties. It just seemed that things were easier that way. Each person took their turn to do kitchen duty, or laundry, or border patrol. Adriel had noticed that Sylvana had been appearing at dinner less and less each week. Now he found her bent over one of her dusty old books, silver pen in hand and a notebook beneath her hand as she scribbled notes feverishly across a page already nearly full. He hesitated momentarily as he watched her. The fairy lights in the corners reflected off her pale hair so that it seemed to shimmer; the candles on the table radiated warm light about her so that she almost seemed to glow with her own inner light. She almost looked like one of the Fae; the only thing she was missing was the shimmering, iridescent wings. But as beautiful as she was, Sylvana was far from being one of the Bright Folk. As Adriel though about it he finally had to decide that he was glad she was not one of the Bright Folk. For starters, the Bright Folk were notoriously illusive, and then there was the truth that relations between the Bright Folk and the Fair Ones…the Laicar…was strictly forbidden and always had been. He finally entered the room and walked over to her.  
"We missed you at dinner," he said in a soft voice.  
"I'm sorry," she replied, "I lost track of time…" She'd always been able to do that. No one could sneak up on her; Myrage had never been successful in pulling one of her practical jokes on her because Sylvana always saw it coming. Adriel had to marvel at this ability of hers even though he knew only too well that it was because she was a powerful empath.  
"What are you up to? Still translating your books?"  
"Yes…and no…"  
"Well…what exactly does that mean?"  
"I've been searching for answers…"  
"About what?"  
"That young man…there's something strange about him, something not quite right. It's almost as though he's not who he seems."  
"How so?"  
"Well, you must agree that he'd a soldier…" Adriel nodded, "but he doesn't have the aura of a natural born killer. He never should have even been drawn to become a soldier."  
"Couldn't he have been conscripted?"  
"Of course, but it's unlikely that he would have survived long, and if he did then his aura would have adjusted…it would have become stained. However, even the way he acts goes against who he should be. I've never even heard of this before, let alone seen it…despite all the past lives of experience I have. I may have found a lead in this book, but it's written in script so arcane and obsolete that working through it is an extremely slow and tedious process."  
"Sylvana, he's well again, he'll be leaving. It doesn't matter anymore…"  
"Adriel, I'm a healer, it's what I do…it's what I'm meant to do…what I'm compelled to do. It's a part of my nature I cannot escape."  
"Yes, I know…but there's nothing you can do in only a couple of days. I'm glad that you finally have something more to concern yourself with than what happened to my brother…but unless you're planning on going with him when he leaves…" Sylvana sighed and placed her pen in the book and closed it.  
"As usual you're right," she said, "Even if I do find the answer, there won't be anything I can do about it." She picked up a clay flagon and pressed it to her cheek. Adriel couldn't help but notice that it was still almost full.  
"Are you even planning on drinking that tea?" Sylvana smiled  
"No, I was actually just using it to keep my hands warm. Even with the fire going, it's strangely cold. So," she twisted around to look up at Adriel, "you must have come here for a reason."  
"I did…I thought you might want to come with me to the bath house to soak in one of the hot pools. As you said yourself, it's been unusually cool." Sylvana sighed and stretched.  
"All right," she said, "let's go."  
  
*******  
  
Dilandau wandered down the path toward the vale's centre. He hesitated shortly, trying to recall the direction Sylvana had told him to go in. Finally, as per her instructions, he took the southeast path. The woods were quick to engulf him in their soft shadows. Music drifted up through the threes to meet his ears. Again it was a song he'd never heard, but this one seemed strangely familiar. After several minutes, he broke through the trees into a semi-clearing. There was Sylvana, leaning against what appeared to be a large, moss covered boulder. Her silvery hair was mostly loose so that it cascaded down her back like so much spun silver, but the hair at either of her temples was braided and then tied at the bottom with matching violet cords the same colour as her dress. Her graceful legs showed though slits in either side of the dress's skirt and on her feet she wore simple black sandals. Her eyes were closed as she played a haunting melody on her beautiful crystal flute. Near her, curled up, was a huge white, leopard spotted, winged cat. The creature regarded Dilandau with intense golden eyes, not unlike Myrage's, which within seemed to lay a remarkable intelligence that was completely unmistakable. The feline slowly sat up and stretched, flexing its wings and claws, formidable, razor sharp claws to rend and tear its prey -- or any it considered to be its enemy. It yawned widely, showing off two sets of dagger sharp, ivory teeth -- and indeed, its fangs were almost the length of a dagger or so it seemed. Sylvana appeared to be oblivious to his presence, or any other happenings for that matter. The feline eyed him, indifferently it seemed, but then it narrowed its eyes and slowly, methodically began to stalk toward him. Keeping its golden eyes on him, it coiled, again flexing and retracting its claws, as it bore down to lunge, but just as it did, Sylvana's hand shot out and snared the feline by its long tail. The feline hissed like a demon, but quickly resigned itself and sat back on its haunches, still glaring at Dilandau. Sylvana then turned her pale eyes on him and regarded him thoughtfully a moment or so.  
"Icemoon doesn't like you," she said finally, "but then again, neither do I so it doesn't surprise me in the least. We both are excellent judges of character you see." Sylvana put her flute aside and climbed gracefully to her feet. Icemoon joined her, not once removing her intense golden gaze. Then Dilandau blinked, wondering if he'd finally lost what was left of his mind, for the boulder Sylvana had been leaning up against was suddenly not there. Rather In its place was a huge pearlescent-white mound. It twitched and then a large, wedge shaped, horned head on a graceful serpentine neck rose up from its resting place on the ground. It regarded the Zaibach warrior with a large icy-blue eye…well, not entirely blue. Its iris was blue for the most part, but swirled within it was ruby pink and its pupil was the same colour as well. The beast pushed itself up onto its hind legs…its only legs as a matter of fact, for its forelimbs, though having the ability to become like forelegs, were glistening iridescent, membranous wings. It twitched its long slender spined tail and then closed its eyes as it opened its mouth in a wide gaping yawn, showing off its numerous wickedly sharp teeth, even longer that Icemoon's. Dilandau cursed loudly; that thing was enormous. He took a step back and muttered something to himself along the lines of:  
"I should have burned this forest down a long time go, and I would have had I known that monsters like that lived in these woods…" The creature opened its eyes and looked right at him, a fire almost seeming to burn deep within them.  
:So,: said a feminine voice inside his head, :you like to play with fire, do you? How would you like to play with this?: The creature then arched its sinuous neck and spat out a spiralling ribbon of green fire. It just barely missed him, searing his cloths slightly as Sylvana grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of harms way. Dilandau, not expecting such an act of compassion, stumbled and fell into Sylvana causing them both to fall to the ground, which was mercifully cushioned by moss and loam. The two stared into each other's faces for a few moments in mutual shock, but Sylvana was quick to recover.  
"Get off of me," she snarled and pushed Dilandau hard and then leapt to her feet; she then took several steps back in order to place a fair distance between herself and the Zaibach soldier. The beast snorted; two plumes of steam curled up from its nostrils.  
:You should have let me roast him like the pig he is,: hissed the same telepathic voice.  
:I agree: piped up a second.  
"No, Snowfire, Icemoon, not while you're in this vale," snapped Sylvana. The two appeared to sulk and then turned to glare at Dilandau. "Snowfire has agreed to carry you back to where you belong," stated Sylvana calmly, "but you'd better make certain you stay on her better side. There's a saying, 'It is wise to approach a dragon with care but a wyvern with a messenger.' They are as intelligent as dragons if not more, but by far more aggressive. If Snowfire decides that she doesn't like your attitude, your style of dress, or even who you associate with, then more often than not she won't hesitate to gut you like a fish or reduce you to cinders before you even have the chance to beg for mercy. She'll be leaving first thing in the morning…on her time. She expects you to be there when she arrives so you'd better be certain that you're up before the sun, because she's up at first light. I'd suggest that you gather up anything you brought with you. Oh, and by the way before I forget, don't you ever come back here as long as you live this life. You are not welcome in this part of the woods. It belongs to the Laicar and always has since the creation of this planet. Am I understood?" Dilandau snorted but nodded. "Good." That said Sylvana retrieved her flute and walked away from the clearing. Icemoon not too far behind. Dilandau turned to look up at Snowfire. The wyvern regarded him with cool indifference.  
:You fly in dangerous skies, boy,: she said in his mind, :you'd better hope I don't change my mind or grow hungry on the way…: she then flexed her winged forelimbs and with a down stroke that kicked up blinding clouds of dust and loam and nearly knocked Dilandau off his feet, rose gracefully into the sky and left the Zaibach to himself.  
  
The following morning Dilandau was roused by the winged cat. She sat at his door and yowled until she was sure he was up. Grudgingly the Zaibach made sure he had everything from his boots to sword and everything else. The feline simply told him in her clear mind voice to go to the vale's centre to meet Snowfire. She also made it quite clear that she would not miss him, and nor would anyone else, though she did not say it in so many words.  
  
At the fountain pool, Dilandau found Sylvana there to see him off along with her sisters and her brother. She and her dark haired sister, Shadow, both regarded him coldly, but both Myrage and the silvery haired Sylvan almost seemed sorry to see him go. Well, Myrage had expressed her desire to pull a practical joke of some sort on him, but he'd only seen Sylvan once. Sylvan regarded Dilandau good-naturedly with bright emerald eyes and then nodded as if in approval. He murmured something to Sylvana in their tongue and she shrugged fluidly. The four then each wished him farewell in some form just as Snowfire appeared above and touched down between Dilandau and the four Laicar. Still leery, Dilandau clambered up onto the beast's back and then, even before he was comfortably settled, she took off again. The four siblings watched in silence, though Myrage was kind enough to wave good-bye. That was that. The four Laicar resumed their normal lives and Dilandau his when he returned to the Vione, but things, despite how they seem, are never that simple… 


End file.
